Sleeping on Laurels

Genre: Family; Friendship; Humour

Pairings: Greg, Molly

Main characters: Greg, Molly

221C was quiet and dark by the time Greg arrived home. He wasn't surprised to find the only signs of life winding her way around his ankles in greeting, soft mews welcoming him back. He smiled briefly at the half grown calico kitten and reached down to pick her up, scratching her behind her ears. After several moments of pampering, a hearty purring in grateful return, he set Missy down, and she departed to curl up with Morrie for the remainder of her nocturnal nap time.

Glad for the greeting – pet therapy was a proven benefit, after all, and Missy was turning out to be a shamelessly attentive and affectionate cat – Greg nonetheless brought his hand up to rub the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Definitely time for sleep, he thought.

He padded as quietly as he could into his and Molly's bedroom, expecting her to be fast asleep. Instead, however, he found her quite awake in the otherwise unlit room, propped up by pillows and engrossed in an eBook on her tablet. He smiled at the way the device lit up her face in a soft glow.

She looked up as she heard him come in. "Oh, darling, you're back," she said, as she set the tablet down and reached over to switch on the small lamp on her night stand. How was your day? I haven't heard from you since late this afternoon, so I wondered if everything was alright."

"Oh," Greg said, as he exhaled a deep breath. "It was… challenging. We've a case even Sherlock and John are scratching their heads over. Either Sherlock is losing his touch, or he's finally encountered something that is beyond even HIS powers of deduction and detection."

Molly smirked at this, as she watched her husband change into his sleep pants and the t-shirt he liked to sleep in. "I find it quite hard to believe that Sherlock is stumped in any way, shape, or form," she finally remarked, as Greg retreated into the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting himself ready for bed.

"Well believe it, Love, it's apparently happened… though I suspect the condition is a temporary one at best. He'll not be had by a case, mark my words. It may simply take him an extra day to figure it out."

"Does your team have any theories?" Molly asked him, her eyes following him as he made his way towards the bed. "I mean really, Sally and Kieran are brilliant detectives in their own right. As are you, if we're to be honest. You didn't achieve the rank of Detective Inspector by being an incompetent dolt."

Greg chuckled softly at this assessment. There were days when he did wonder about that… but then there were days when he knew without question that he had earned his rank by hard work, wise and skilled use of the evidence, and dogged diligence. This, however, was not necessarily one of those days.

"We've plenty of theories, Love. Just none of them are on the right track." Greg heaved a heavy sigh as he crawled under the covers, rolling himself onto his side. Propping himself up on a raised elbow, he rested his head on his raised palm, and gazed upon his wife, bringing his free hand up to tuck a stray lock of chestnut hair back behind her ear. "I'm hoping a good night's sleep in the right company will make for a good and proper reboot of the thought processes. Sometimes we need to just step back for a bit and let the cobwebs clear."

"Recharge, clear the slate of cluttered markings, that sort of thing," Molly smiled, her eyes bright in the dimly lit room. "Agreed, darling. Now, I've had a long day of it myself, but I confess I wasn't able to fall asleep until you were home. I'm not sure why, exactly. It isn't usually a problem…"

"I've no more idea on that than I do on today's enigma, Molly Girl," Greg responded, as he slid himself down, resting his head on the pillow. But," he said, "I'm home now, so perhaps we can both get some sleep." Molly smiled in the near dark as he drew her towards him, wrapping his free arm around her.

Greg and Molly were both sound asleep, engaged in much needed slumber, when Greg's phone pinged with Sherlock's custom text tone.

"Oh, that bastard," Molly mumbled in a haze, as Greg also stirred.

"I'll bet he's solved the bloody thing," Greg said, his voice an exhausted growl. "Well let the annoying sod sleep on his laurels, ignoring him will drive him NUTS."